Friday, October 17, 2014

Drive

I was born with clenched fists in a cold month known for its vicious wind and I haven't stopped shaking for the last 25 years.

I ran against your better judgment before I learned how to crawl out of my fucking self. The day you kissed my eyes and hoped for a getaway out of this hellbent town was the day I believed the heaven in my textbook to be my ultimate salvation.

When I found out about your secret plan to flee, you knew I was your new disappointment.
Within your silence, I sit and have more nightmares awake than I do sleeping.
The villain of my hallucinations spits fire at the bottomless pit of my mind every day I forget to check for the exit door.

You taught me so well mother, now I count each step forward to retrieve my rehearsed steps back from memory.